


Falling Deep

by Wishfulthinker1



Category: XF -RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 15:08:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11511918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wishfulthinker1/pseuds/Wishfulthinker1
Summary: What if David was on set watching Gillian filming The Fall?





	Falling Deep

Fists gripped, arms crossed over chest, ankles integrated in a likeminded manner, jaw clenched. All the tell tale signs were there, to her that is. Anyone else looking at him would have most likely assumed he was bored or indifferent to what was going on due to the glossy hue that seemed to encompass his hazel eyes. And yet she could practically feel his stare scorching her even from across the hotel room which was the set for this particular scene. The space had seemed much bigger upon first glance and now felt like it’s walls were closing in on her.  
Inhaling deeply she closed her eyes for just a split second, silently calling out to the gods of meditation to help her maintain her zen. Buttoning up the silk blouse she shot a hopeful glance at Allan, who seconds ago had yelled cut. “Have we got it?” She asked trying not to sound too desperate in her need for this to be over. “Lose that defeatist attitude and be a damn professional”, her inner voice scolded.  
“I am quite sure we do, but I want to go over the footage once more just to be on the safe side. Either way we are all due for a lunch break aren’t we?”  
Rhetoric a question as it was she found herself agreeing out loud. A quick glance at the time made her realize they has been filming that scene for the good part of the morning. And throughout it all he had not left that chair on the other side of that hotel suite, room 203, not even once. No bathroom breaks, no breaths of fresh air. No, his ass was superglued to the material of that chair, bonded for life, a marriage made in heaven, no, hell. He was in excruciating pain, and not of the physical kind.  
It’s his own damn fault. No one made him get on a plane, fly half way across the ocean to get a first row seat to the exhibit entitled “watch your girlfriend pretend fuck a chiselled hunk of a man while half naked” she thought. And yet there he was.

She had came to value his prolonged presence in her life, whatever his title was at the time, friend, co worker, confident, fuck buddy… He was there regardless, and somehow karma kept intertwining their paths, meshing them together, no matter how hard they fought to keep said paths separate. So much so that eventually she embraced this as a sign that she better take notice of. She couldn’t count on the universe to do her dirty work for her, she had to buckle up and start being pro active. Especially now that he had earned the title of lover and life partner. No other man had ever been in an out of her life so many times and still inhabited such a substantial part in her heart despite all odds.  
She contemplated whether she should divulge the information of her upcoming sex scene so openly. Outweighing the pros and cons, she deduced that she owed him the truth, for the sake of their relationship it would be better to just put it out there and deal with it in a mature fashion before he sees it on screen. Christ, when had she become such an adult? In some miraculous way the mere presence of him helped chase away her rebellious need for spiralling down an unknown path, shrugging off any consequences, throwing caution to the wind, complicating issues, creating a heaping mess and then just continuing forward, looking back only to give the middle finger to whoever or whatever was left behind. She often wondered if the marvel of his calming affect on her soul would still be embraced and appreciated if they actually lived in the same continent and saw each other on a more regular basis. A seed of restlessness had been implanted within her at a very young age and her self harming tendencies were more addictive than the alcohol she had sworn off a few decades back.  
The sight of him there on that chair, dormant volcano ready to erupt made her wish she could pay someone else to clean that mess up while she took a dive, head first, into the deep end of the pool erasing all trace of the foul disposition that was soon to be her immediate future. The thought of needing to work extra hard to appease him felt like bondage at this given point in time, and she could feel that wreckless seed within her stir, no longer dormant.  
***  
She knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his promise to her, she called him out on it the moment the words exited his mouth, a feeble attempt at persuading her to let him come to set to watch her as Stella seduce and fuck the character of James Olsen.  
“It’s not going to have any affect on me Gil. I promise. We’re both actors, we know how technical these scenes can be. Lord knows I endured my fair share of those scenes during my Californication days.”  
“You’re so full of shit Duchovny” she blatantly stated knowing fully well the way he disliked the presence of doting men around her, or any man for that matter, regardless of his intention, or lack there of. His ammunition being silently challenging any man that was in her vicinity to a dual with just a single stare, making sure the other side knew they were headed for defeat.  
As much as she appreciated his need to protect her and claim her as his own, she also wanted him to back off sometimes, give her some breathing room, to be allowed to scatter any which way and lose herself in something that wasn’t him. Especially in the work place, more specifically on this project. Inhabiting Stella was like a breath of fresh air for her, intense as this character was she quickly became like a second skin to her, took her away from the life that was her own like no character before. Stella helped her take ownership of her own sense of being in some odd way, satisfying a desire of herself for herself. No one existed when she was Stella Gibson, and that’s probably why he had insisted on being there, so she wouldn’t like it too much and stray off course.  
He had a radar about him that could detect when her self destructive tendencies began to rear their ugly head, when she would rather flee than stay in the here and now, he had been on the receiving side of those liabilities many a times. Another man would have picked up and left, for some reason, one she could not quite figure out no matter how long and hard she attempted to meditate on, he persevered. And so she trusted him and granted him access to her personal work space that morning.  
And now she was starting to regret it, she could feel her self entitlement walls coming up, wishing she could actually formulate such walls and just revert into herself, be a hermit in a quiet and peaceful space, however small it was, just to not have to deal with anything. 

****  
He knew he had to do the polite gentleman thing and ask to come to the set, even though he was dead set on being there and was ready to slip in unannounced if she put up any resistance. He was ready to make love to her to the brink of exhaustion and get a defeated yes out of her. Whatever it took, he was ready to play dirty.  
He wanted to know at the end of that day that her carefree laugh belonged to him. Her body was just an added bonus, the sprinkles if you have it, on an already plentiful mouth-watering sundae ice cream topped with whipped cream. That full blown laugh of hers was the embodiment of everything David knew her to be. It was the goofy, and the wild, the blithe and the innocent, the untroubled and the free spirit that she could be. Just as long as he knew he secured that position he could shrug away any thoughts of any men in her life. So he had to come and make sure he still possessed that ability. Confident man as he was, his need for Gillian’s love made him easy prey, forever stretching himself beyond his means to ensure that she was content. His old self would have looked down at him in self contempt. And yet the new and improved version of himself, stripped of ego and power play just wanted to be able to hold on to her for as long as he possible could, regardless of what he had to do to ensure this.  
And so there he was, on set, staring at the woman he loved get physical with another man on camera. He managed to keep his cool the first couple of takes, but when the director continued to yell cut due to an overzealous Ben who couldn’t seem to keep his excitement level to a minimum and kept pushing his body parts in Gillian’s direction totally improvised and lingering on her lips for too long, he wanted to go out there and give him a piece of his mind, and leave an indentation of his fist. The location of said gesture varied every time he heard the words “cut” tossed out into the air.  
By the eleventh take his amygdala was going crazy, he could quite literally feel the blood flow increasing in his brain clouding all judgment. Gripping the sides of the chair to the point of numbness was the only thing holding back his need to punch a wall or hurl a sharp object at Ben. But his anger was now equally distributed between him and Gillian, after the twelfth take it seemed as though Gillian was starting to enjoy Bens little fuck ups, giggling and going into full blown laughter as she toppled over him on the bed. Upon witnessing this his heart sank and a heavy sense of sad resided within his chest, infusing with some hurt and anger already occupying that space.  
By the time Alan announced a lunch break David was beside himself, his insides resembling those of a tortured caged animal he just needed to get out of that damn chair. His breath hot and heavy he kept his mouth closed exhaling through his nostrils, which only worsened the clench in his sternum. He got up, rigidly walking to the refreshment table picking up a water bottle he starts sipping, easing his parched throat. He was on his third sip when he heard Ben’s voice behind him. “Hey man, how are you doing? It’s so great to have you on set”. He turned to an outstretched hand before him.  
Fuck you man, he thought as he went in for a firm handshake, asserting his presence with an extra squeeze of Ben’s hand. First you get handsy with my woman in between takes and now you come here in the pretense of a nice guy? Sizing Ben up, David shot him an unimpressed stare, which went unnoticed as Ben continued in his thick Irish accent. “I am a huge X files fan. Oh and I recently finished your book “Holy Cow”, you have some mad writing skills man, truly enjoyed it.”  
Great, David thought, am I going to have to stand here and listen to a review of every damn thing I have ever partook in? Next thing he will be rating my on camera sex moves in Kalifornia and praising my naked ass.  
“Thanks” he managed to filter in between gritted teeth as the overly chummy Ben continued.  
“The guys and I are getting together for a friendly hoop shooting match after lunch, it’s how we work off the built up tension of these long daily shoots, you should join us.”  
Built up tension in your pants no doubt David’s mind shot back. Relishing for a moment on the bloody nose he might cause Ben “accidently” in the pretence of boys being boys and roughing it up on the basketball court.  
Before David had a chance to answer Gillian was beside them, the familiar smells of her came in waves hitting his nostrils. He took an extra whiff as she came closer to kiss his cheek, adamant to detect a hint of any traces of arousal encircling her. None registered.  
“I think David might need to take a rain check on that invitation” she smiled forcibly, we already have plans. She shot David a “don’t mess with my plans or I will throw a tantrum and it will get messy” look, one which David knew only too well.  
“Actually some b-ball sounds just right”, he said challenging the look. “Give me your number and I will call you to get the location and time after I have a quick bite” he continued in the friendliest of tones. He was off the self warrantied body guard duty and figured handling an inanimate object on the court would be less messy than dealing with the fraught projection of the woman standing beside him at this moment shooting him with a deadly stare upon hearing his answer to Ben. He knew her so well, how hard it was for her to say sorry, or push for some time to talk over uncomfortable subject matters, these things requiring a degree of humility, and when she was riled up like this they were non existent in her DNA profile, instead she was on the attack mode, a war path that would lead to no good.  
“No need” Gillian said warding Ben with a forced lukewarm smile, “I have your number I can pass it along”. And with that she was off heading towards the door, stopping short of the exit to look back with a look that demanded following. The sheer magnetic force that was her left David no choice but to trail behind after her.  
A few minutes later as they walked into the hotel room at the end of the hall booked by the production for Gillian to rest in between takes, she got a phone call from Alan saying there was no need for another take of that scene and that they would convene shooting according to schedule later on that day.  
Closing the door behind them Gillian sighed with relief, “great, now I can get out of these clothes.”  
“Well you weren’t really wearing them to begin with” David mumbled under his breath. Not sure if he wanted her to hear the words, but needing them to be spoken out loud as half naked images from this morning flashed in his brain. He could spot a hint of vexation gleaming in her eyes indicating her hearing was in tact, soon replaced by a convicted enticing one. Unbuttoning her silk blouse she kicked off her heels and made her way to him, not once breaking eye contact, knowing exactly the affect she has on him. Stopping mere inches away from him she asks in the most alluring tone she can muster “so do you want to know what I have planned for us after lunch?” A seductive smile creeping across her lips.  
Surprisingly untouched by her attempt David answers “I could use some lunch right now, I’m famished, and I think you could use a shower”. His last comment accompanied by an undertone of disgust, serving as fuel to an already lit fire. Backtracking she angrily headed for the mini bar taking out a can of cola.  
“You know you really should lay off that sugary stuff it wreaks havoc on your system”. He shot at her, further backing her into an uncomfortable corner, why should he be the only one residing there he thought.  
“Fuck u David, I don't get all up in your business when you have those disgusting green smoothies of yours”. She shot back. Her irritation reaching to the point of explosion. She momentarily lost sight of who was before her, self absorbed in her entitlement.  
"Suit yourself" he shrugged. His indifferent countenance frustrated her. Registering the insult and the low blow he had stooped to with his comment, her need to flee kicked into high gear. She contemplated putting her shirt and shoes back on and getting as far away from that room as possible, but then opted for the closer choice as she surged into the bathroom.

**  
The slamming of the bathroom door behind her felt like a knife to his heart. Unable to sit down he found himself pacing the room, unsure of what to do next. Maybe he should just slip out of the room and take Ben on his basketball offer. Dribbling a basketball down the court would help simmer his boiling blood. A couple of silent moments later he heard the water in the shower start to run.  
The thought of her washing her skin of any traces of male testosterone or DNA took the compressed sensation in his chest down a notch. Ten minutes later, he’ still pacing, attempting to formulate coherent sentences that would rewind the sequence of events and put everything in order once more, but failing miserably. “Some Ivy league graduate you are, can’t even use your words properly” he scowls back at himself.  
A few minutes later the sound of the shower door opening jarred him back into the here and now causing him to still his pacing. Completely unpremeditated he found himself drawn to her, he didn’t feel his feet touch the floor and yet in a matter of seconds he was face to face with her. The hotel bathrobe practically swallowed any trace of her slim figure and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of it before him. Responding to his chuckle their eyes meet and a grin creeps across her lips, a sign he didn’t realize he needed. Cupping her face with both hands he brings his lips down hard on hers with such a longing, almost daring her not to open her mouth to him, eliciting a slight moan from her he deepens the kiss thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Detecting a hint of peppermint on her breath, he sucks her tongue ferociously, savoring the taste of her. The mere fact that she had brushed her teeth for him, silly as it might seem brings a surge of blood flow to his groin and he feels himself getting hard. His frantic hands find their way to the belt of her robe and with one swift motion he opens it, peeling it off her body to reveal the nakedness underneath, he greedily takes in the swell of her breasts and the sight of her rosy nipples poking out hardened, seeking attention. One look at those glistening baby blues spotted with arousal is all he needs to continue, locking with her lips again his hand travels down the curve of her back until it stops at her ass, groping it with a harsh movement pulling her frame to his, so she can feel the physical evidence of his need for her.  
Focusing extra attention to her bottom lip, he quickly kisses, then nibbles, perhaps just a tad too forcefully than intended for she pulls her head back, a winced look on her face as her fingernails dig deep into his biceps where her hands had been caressing only a moment ago. She quickly recovers and reaches to unbutton his jeans. He stops her, prying her hands away, she searches his eyes for some guidance, for a hint of intention, but sees none, he is too caught up in his feverish turmoil to emote anything but a primal need to overtake her. She shivers, Goosebumps forming on her skin, anxiously gulping down the little saliva that is still present in her mouth. It’s seldom that she cannot find the answers to her unspoken questions deep within his eyes. This feeling is unsettling to say the least, it practically shakes her to the core. she feels her legs start to shake beneath her. Just as she opens her mouth to speak he reaches out, grabs her waist spinning her around so her back is to him, taking a handful of her right breast with one hand, as his other hand lays flat on her belly pulling her closer to him.  
He starts a kneading motion then pinches her nipple, “Da-vid”, she grunts out his name realizing right then and there what her part would be in all of this, unsure of her willingness to play along. Leaving her breast his hand maneuvers her head to the side, exposing her neck to him, lowering his head he starts kissing it, rough and urgent kisses that feel like tiny needles pricking her epidermis. Targeting a sensitive spot just beneath her earlobe he begins sucking on it vigorously, he’s branding her, claiming her as his own. “David”, she starts up again, trying to wiggle out of his steady grip on her, registering how little control she has and trying to make her annoyance evident.  
He had chosen to position here where she can’t even look into his eyes. The fucking bastard. In response to her attempt at protest he exposes that same sensitive spot he had been sucking to the feel of his teeth, deliberately biting down, eliciting a yelp from her mouth and some more resistance from her end as she attempts to pry his hand off her middle. With an attempt to docile her he reaches in-between her thighs, running his middle and index finger at her opening in a singular motion collecting the moisture already accumulating between her folds. Caught by surprise her body stops still and her mind starts whirling searching frantically where her focus should go, the delicious tantalizing feel of his fingers in her southern region or the sharp intake of pain in her northern. He stops for a moment his whole arm retreating from her body’s vicinity, she feels it doing something behind her back but she knows better than to move, she opts for the uncomfortable and unaware, wondering what his next move might be, the anticipation of it all both infuriating and invigorating, a lethal combination. She attempts to calm her breathing and fails miserably as she hears his raspy voice inches from her ear: “you taste so good baby”. She closes her eyes momentarily allowing his words to sink into the pit of her stomach accompanied by a rush of relief meshed with arousal at the image of him licking her juices off his fingers.  
He picks up his penetrating assault into her depth, a steady motion of twisting his fingers vehemently, as if engraving his name on her inner walls as they pulsate against his inkless scribble. Egged on by her guttural moan, he continues this motion, while the other hand finally lets go of her belly and reaches down to stimulate her clit. He hears her breathing come in short gasps and his fingers become increasingly wetter. She feels his lips kissing her shoulder as he continues his fine tuned battery, and just when she thinks she will most likely come, he angles his hand, the one deep within her to lightly press against her asshole, the surprise of it all delays her release. “fuck me” she hisses as she throws her head back, dizzy by her rousing.  
It wasn’t meant in request form, just the type of verbal slur he was accustomed to hearing from her in the throws of passion, and yet in this instance he chooses to interpret it as such. Eyeing the room he decides on the widespread couch not far from where they are standing. Removing his fingers he grips her waist and impatiently nudges her towards it, assisting her as she takes wobbly steps with his guidance towards the head rest where he stops and pushes her back down. She is now stretched on top of the rest. Unzipping his pants he sighs with relief as the painful straining within his denim decreases, proceeding then to discard his pants along with his boxers. The sight of her round ass tantalizing him to no avail, even at its dormant position helps his erection reach rock hard status. He strokes her ass cheeks, the smell of her arousal fills his nostrils, prompting a surge of hunger within him. No, stroking wasn’t enough, he open palm smacks her right but cheek, and before he can registers her surprised yelp, impales himself inside her grabbing her waist and digging his fingers into the undersides of her hipbones, she cries out from the sheer force of it, feeling him hit her cervix.  
He begins his callousness thrusting motion pulling her towards him to meet each thrust. Registering that his fingers are leaving her skin blotched with a pinkish hue awards him with further satisfaction. His left hand still steadying her at her waist he continues his pounding, grabbing a fistful of her hair he tugs lightly but enough to elicit a series of moans and groans from her. She is close he can feel her walls clamping around him, it’s a close race to the finish line and a Neanderthal urge deep within his groin opts for him to cross the finish line victorious and leave her lagging. He looks down at her figure sprawled in front of him, arms outstretched, her hands gripping the couch material, her waist back and buttocks sporting the marks of his despair. He lets go of her hair momentarily, surprised by this she tilts her head back with a downcast look. Catching that look his heart swells for this glorious creature of a woman, relinquishing his previous thoughts of a selfish victory lap.  
Re positioning himself against her back he leans forward angling his penetration to hit that deep spot within her that he knows will bring her over the edge. As his hips continue their feverish pace he feels the slickness of her coating him further and he is unsure he can keep himself from coming undone right then and there. Her moans are coming louder now as he thrusts harder and faster into her, he insistently vocalizes what his mind is thinking, “I need you to come for me, now”. He reaches between her thighs starting a motion of left to right just above her clit using just the right amount of pressure needed. A few more thrusts and she tips over the edge shouting out her orgasm in unidentifiable slurs squeezing him as her spasms shoot waves to the base of his shaft. Reaching the point of no return he allows human biology to take over as he spills in to her with one loud grunt.  
Pulling out of her he takes a step back, his pulse still feels like the pounding of a sledgehammer but his breathing is gradually edging its way into the range of normal. As he turns to head for the bathroom to get her a towel to clean up he feels her hand on his arm. He turns to face her, one look into her eyes ensures him of the sustainable love they have been sharing for over two decades and his heart skips a beat with relief. She motions towards him, cupping his face with her hands looks deep into his eyes. “Is it out of your system now?” she asks with a reassuring and compassionate tone. Instead of answering he leans down to kiss her lips, soft and gentle, then pulls her body into an embrace resting his chin on the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair. Closing his eyes he wills time to stand still so they can just stay in this moment forever. With all the addictions he has had to overcome over the years, she will forever be his constant drug of choice, the one he will forever allow to invade his system, the one he would never be able to wean himself off, no matter what winding path life steers him down. And so he takes one more hit of his substance of choice, beseeching the universe for an never ending supply.


End file.
